


A little bribery goes a long way

by LeonLeonRevolution



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen, M/M, Minor Kalim Al-Asim/Jamil Viper, Pre-Relationship, confident jamil bc i said so and he deserves it, dire crowley is actually a competent teacher sort of, jamil gets to be a huge smug asshole here, the ghost staff make a quick cameo, the magic carpet is also there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeonLeonRevolution/pseuds/LeonLeonRevolution
Summary: A few months prior to the start of the school year, an unexpected visitor comes knocking at Crowley's door.It turns out big trouble does indeed come in small packages, and Crowley's in for quite the headache with this new student.
Relationships: Kalim Al-Asim/Jamil Viper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: Jamil and Kalim's life positions have been reversed in this au, making Jamil the rich heir of a powerful family and Kalim a servant to said family. Their dynamic is different from Kalim and Jamil's in canon though!
> 
> More about this au can be found [here](https://scarabbai.tumblr.com/) under the [#role reversed au](https://scarabbai.tumblr.com/tagged/role-reversed-au) tag.

Dire Crowley is a man hard at work, one who wholeheartedly loves his school and every drop of sweat he’s shed while building, repairing, and maintaining its foundation. The scratch of his quill against parchment, the delicate yet deliberate lines of ink elegantly marking his documents, the low and thoughtful hum in his throat as he taps his claws against the table, all of it demonstrates his complete and utter concentration. New students, returning ones, management, fees, staff—he must keep track of it all, organizing existing assets and ordering whatever will be needed for the coming school year. With his mountain of tasks, he scarcely has the time to do anything, even things as simple as enjoying his afternoon tea! Ah, a true tragedy, but he mustn’t stop toiling away. Night Raven College is his pride and joy, and his continual efforts to care for it shall not cease even for a moment. He is kind, after all.

A knock at the door causes him to pause his writing, his quill suspended in midair as he stills. The wood remains unmoved as a ghost—Sir Mallow, one of his secretaries—phases his head through it. They blink at each other for a moment before the spectre clears his throat.

“Mister Crowley, sir?” Mallow brings the rest of his body inside, drifting into the room and hovering before Dire’s desk. “There’s someone here to see you.”

“A visitor? Asking for a meeting now?”

Dire brings a hand to his chin in consideration.

He doesn’t exactly enjoy being disturbed, especially when focused on such an arduous task, and this is rather sudden and unannounced. An excuse to chat or even stretch his legs a bit would be incredibly nice right about now, but he doesn’t have anything currently at the ready to entertain guests. Additionally, putting something together last minute would be a big hassle and not worth the trouble. Oh, unscheduled visits are such a headache to deal with even if they offer a much desired break from paperwork! It’s unfortunate, but he’ll have to decline.

“As much as I’d like to…” Dire heaves a dramatic, over-the-top sigh. “I’m rather busy at the moment. Could you please tell them to come at a later time?”

Sir Mallow wrings his hands—a habit much of the staff frequently point out—and frowns deeply. “That’s the thing, sir… He’s not taking no for an answer.”

“Hm?” Dire raises an eyebrow. “Who is?”

“One Mister Viper, sir.”

He snaps to attention at once, leaning forward in his chair. “ _Viper?_ As in, _that_ Viper?”

Surely it couldn’t be _that_ Mister Viper, meaning the famed noble of the Land of Hot Sands, with great power and even greater riches to his name? Of a family said to be the descendants of one of the Great Seven, the Sorcerer of the Desert himself? The man who recently graced the school with his presence, entering his office covered from head to toe in sparkling gold?

Just a couple weeks ago, Dire met with him to praise the flawless and outstanding performance his son—a quiet, brooding boy who spoke only once and glared viciously throughout the entire meeting—displayed during his entrance examinations. He congratulated him with utmost enthusiasm over his son’s acceptance to the school, expressing his overwhelming joy that the prestigious Viper family would even consider Night Raven College. Insisting the very institution was humbled by the Vipers’ presence, he quietly assured Mister Viper that his son would have been guaranteed a place at Night Raven even if he hadn’t passed. He would do anything to please the head of such an important family, after all.

Now, however, Dire is beginning to doubt the effectiveness of his previous displays of hospitality. Could it be that he upset the Vipers somehow? That would be disastrous! With their reputation and resources, they could easily destroy his school in just a few carefully planned moves. Surely that isn’t the case? Surely it is a mere misunderstanding, and Mister Viper isn’t the one knocking at his door?

Alas… “I believe so, Mister Crowley.”

Dread, cold and deep, crawls inside Dire’s chest. Despite this, he quickly wipes any apprehension from his features, turning his distressed frown into a warm, welcoming smile. After all, a good host never shows disdain in front of guests. Opening his arms with a cheerful and hearty laugh, he exclaims, “Well, why didn’t you say so! Please, let him in at once. We are kind, so we mustn’t keep our guest of honor waiting.”

Sir Mallow bows. “Yes, Crowley sir. Right away.”

The moment the ghost leaves the room, Dire leaps into action.

With a flick of his hand, magic surges outward. Stacks of both finished and unfinished paperwork burst into a flutter and begin to file themselves, sheet by sheet, away inside cabinets. Feather dusters spring to life and clean each and every exposed surface with mighty fervor. His work space rearranges itself, morphing from an office desk to an ornate tea table and placing down comfortable chairs. As he pulls his best tin of tea leaves out of a drawer, the table sets itself with his finest china and polished silverware. He rings the school chef for some refreshments to be prepared as quickly as possible before putting the kettle on and sitting down.

By the time Sir Mallow returns and knocks to announce the arrival of his guest, Dire is already pouring tea into his cup. “Do come in!” he chimes, his expression the epitome of cheer as the door creaks open.

He tries _very_ hard not to go slack jawed in shock when it is not Mister Viper who enters his office—it is Mister Viper’s son!

Such an unexpected turn of events! Dire barely contains his sheer surprise and relief as he motions for the young Viper to take a seat, pouring tea for the young man.

The Viper heir—Jamil, he recalls his name was—carries himself with immense grace and poise as he sits across from him, as expected for someone of his social standing. Dire notes he’s looking much more composed and confident than the last time he saw him, his expression borderlining smug. How odd.

Nevertheless, he smiles brightly. “What a pleasure it is to see you again so soon, young Viper! You gave me quite the surprise, showing up unannounced the way you did. You must be tired from your trip here! Please, do have something to eat.” Dire gestures to the desserts lain out on the table, looking on with a pleased expression as the young man plucks a chocolate truffle from one of the trays. He waits for him to finish snacking on the sweet before continuing, “I must ask, are you here on behalf of your father? As I’m sure you remember, I met with him not long ago! He is a very outstanding and brilliant man, and he has many connections as well, correct? Ah, truly remarkable! Absolutely incredible! You know, I actually heard just last week he–”

“I’m not here to run my father’s errands,” Jamil states rather sharply. “I came here on my own. For my own reasons.”

“Oh!” Dire hadn’t even noticed the boy’s expression souring as he blathered on. Perhaps he hit a nerve. “I see,” he backtracks, toning down his enthusiasm. “Then what has brought you here today, young Viper?”

“I want to make a deal with you.”

“Hm?” Intriguing, but unrealistic. “With all due respect to your title, young Jamil, I don’t think it’s possible for me to–”

Out of thin air, the Viper heir materializes a glittering gold coin in his hand, holding it in front of Dire’s face. It gleams and glows like the sun even in the mediocre lighting of his office, and his eyes can’t help but follow its shiny surface as the coin sways back and forth. Crows adore sparkling trinkets after all, and Dire is no exception. Even as the gold piece is placed on the table, he remains greedily focused on it.

Just as he considers snatching it up for himself, the young man strikes, and the prize disappears back into his hand. He then tauntingly rolls the coin across his knuckles, showing off some sleight of hand and causing three more to appear before all four golden pieces vanish once more.

 _“Actually,”_ Jamil’s voice drips with arrogance as he nonchalantly examines his nails, “I think it _is_ possible, Mister Crowley.”

Curse his feathers for being weak to such treasures! His inner crow can never resist such a dazzling gleam, and there might even be greater riches in waiting.

He must, at the very least, hear the offer.

Despite his immense irritation upon seeing the boy’s conceited smirk, Dire folds his hands and remains outwardly civil. “I’m listening.”

The Viper’s victorious grin turns downright egotistical as he sets down seven positively _radiant_ golden discs between them. Pushing the coins toward Dire, he states his order:

“Fetch two files for me. I need records changed, information altered, and details fabricated. I’ll give you a basic story. Make it believable, and forge the evidence to back it up if need be.”

 _“And,”_ he silences the complaints on the tip of Dire’s tongue with a raised hand, “I want you to make it untraceable. No proof, no messiness. Like everything’s always been that way.”

The allure of the gold is tempting, but even Dire eyes the little snake and his offerings with suspicion. Such a sudden and specific request, and with so much to it as well! How troublesome. His lips curved downward in the smallest of frowns, he counters, “Now, young Jamil… What, pray tell, gives you the idea that I am capable of doing such things? I am merely the headmaster of a school, you know.”

The boy has the _gall_ to laugh in his face.

With dramatic flourish, Jamil opens his hand to reveal a crisp slip of paper. Holding it up between his fingers, he waves it around in a mocking manner before placing it face down and sliding it across the table.

“See if _this_ will change your mind.”

When Dire picks it up, his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets in shock, and his head spins with the number of zeroes staring him in the face.

Jamil, on the other hand, doesn’t even bat an eyelash as Crowley fusses over the cheque. Instead, he takes a moment to preen and bask in the glory of his success before growing bored, rolling his eyes, and snapping his fingers to get the attention back on him.

“You may be downplaying your talents in an attempt to worm your way out of this, but I know the truth.” He points a finger directly at the headmaster’s face. “You’re a powerful man, Mister Crowley. I’m sure you can figure it out and get the job done.”

The man—fae?—changes his tune quick as he pockets the bribes, becoming pleasant and cheerful once more. “Young Jamil, I will fulfill your request!” he declares in a booming voice. Then, in a much quieter one, he adds, “I shall listen, for I am kind.”

Jamil’s lips curl into a devious smile. Perfect.

“That’s what I thought.” He leans back in his chair. “Now, here’s what I have in mind…”


	2. Chapter 2

Kalim doesn’t have to look at the clock to know more than enough time has ticked by.

It’s been hours since the ghost led Jamil away for an audience with the headmaster, leaving Kalim in the waiting area with nothing but dusty chairs and old stone for company. He can’t say in specifics how many minutes have passed, but he knows he’s been alone for quite a while in this empty school. It’s like an abandoned castle, drafts leaving cold seeping into his skin. Devoid of students and their lively chatter, an oppressive silence fills the halls. It’s stifling, unsettling. With no one around, Kalim doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s an entertainer with no one to please, a servant separated from his master. Lost and confused. Lonely. A person without a purpose.

Shrinking in his seat, he clutches the rolled up rug in his arms closer to his chest. At least he has the Magic Carpet as a friend. Even without words, Carpet always seems to understand.

Sitting with them partially unfurled in his lap, he’s in the middle of playing with Carpet’s tassels when the door opens with a resounding creak. From the pattern and echo of the footsteps alone, Kalim knows exactly who it is. He stands at attention as he approaches, a smile returning to his face when Jamil’s confident stride and smug smirk come into view. Like the glory of the sun, his triumphant air is radiant and beautiful. His very presence is enough to dispel the chill and warm Kalim to the core.

Jamil’s voice is a delightful purr as he reveals his prize. “Well, I’ve done it.”

In his hand is a document of sorts. Carpet playfully drapes themself over Kalim’s head, tickling his face and jabbing an inquisitive tassel toward the paper, but Kalim remains patient and unworried. Instead of asking questions, he cheerfully showers Jamil in applause and praise, feeding off his excitement as he preens and basks in the attention. Nothing brings Kalim more joy than seeing Jamil happy, and he knows Jamil can’t resist showing off anyway. Either way, he’ll hear the details in just a moment.

True to his nature, Jamil presents the sheet with dramatic flourish, holding it out for Kalim to see. A quick glance shows a page with their basic profiles from the school system, but a closer look has his eyes widening: those aren’t their records, those are _altered_ records!

“Jamil Cobra and Kalim Al-Asim, just your average pair of childhood friends attending Night Raven College together...” Jamil winks, earning himself a giggle from Kalim. “Now how’s that for a cover story?”

Kalim’s face lights up with devious glee. “Ohh, Jamil-sama, that’s so _sneaky!”_ He giddily attaches himself to Jamil’s arm. “You’re so good at coming up with aliases... I feel like a new person already!”

Jamil laughs, the boisterous sound bouncing off the walls and sending Kalim’s heart fluttering. “Oh come on, now...” His dark eyes twinkle with amusement as he taps him on the nose. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Kalim.”

His smiles sheepishly as his face fills with heat. “Hehe, I won’t, I won’t.”

They linger on each other for a while.

It takes a firm smack of fabric to the back of Jamil’s head for them to snap out of their trance, leaving them both flustered and spluttering as they jump apart. Impatient with their nonsense, Carpet flies around the two and ushers them toward the exit. They’ll attend this school for the first time soon enough, but until then, it’s time for a swift ride home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! I really hope you enjoyed this fic and au (and if you did, more can be found [here!](https://scarabbai.tumblr.com/)), thank you again for reading and have a nice day!


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